


One Drink High

by a_q



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bars and Pubs, Breathplay, Community: kink_bingo, Dirty Talk, Drinking, First Time, Food, Kissing, M/M, Nipple Play, One Night Stands, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:36:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/pseuds/a_q
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for anon kink meme prompt <a href="http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/8700.html?thread=20089596#t20089596">Virginity-of-a-sort loss, knotting</a></p>
<p>Erik is an alpha who has never been with an omega before. He likes sex as much as the next person, but he has other priorities in life. So when a younger, very experienced, very forward, and just a little slutty omega sets his sight on Erik, he finds out what he has been missing.</p>
<p>Also filling a postage stamp from my KB card: dirty talk-nipple play-breathplay-food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Drink High

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [One Drink High](https://archiveofourown.org/works/582401) by [Amorph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amorph/pseuds/Amorph)



> I made up some slang for this fic, a quick rundown:
> 
> betas = slugs, in the meaning of a counterfeit coin designed to trick a coin-operated machine. Slightly disparaging term, not something to use in a polite company.  
> omegas = two-fours, as in 24 karats -> pure gold, the genuine article.  
> huffing = in the same meaning as 'huffing solvents'.   
> tremors = minor orgasm  
> crick = knot

The girl next to him talked fast and laughed loud. Erik didn't want the company, but sitting alone drew attention and the girl was pretty enough to look at. He sipped his drink and nodded at proper places, trying to look interested while calculating how much longer he had to sit here before he could slip away. Emma slid next to him on the sofa and looked the girl over before waving her hand at her. The girl stopped talking, her eyes wide. Emma waved her hand again.

“Yes, you. Scram.” 

Her eyes glazed and she stood up, turning around and vanishing in the crowd. 

“Why did you do that?” Erik asked. 

”Because I won't let you waste your evening with a slug when there is a two-four at the bar, checking you out.”

Erik glanced over his shoulder. 

“Where?”

Emma sighed and pressed her fingers against his cheek, turning his head more to the left. Once Erik spotted the guy at the end of the bar, he couldn't belief how he had missed him. He stood out. He was _more_. 

The guy leaned on the counter as he chatted with one of the bartenders, a perky blonde girl. He wore a tailored shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and pants that certainly drew the eye to his assets. The guy turned and when he caught Erik's eyes, he smiled. 

“See? Now go get it,” Emma said. “It's about time you stop messing with the slugs and try the real thing.” 

“I'm not touching a two-four when we are on a job,” Erik scoffed. “Remember what happened to you in Vegas? I had to pay off three cleaning ladies, a receptionist and a cop just to get you out of the hotel.”

“Please, this isn't Vegas. This is the kiddie league stuff,” Emma said and reached to snatch the glass from his hand. She downed the remnants of his martini and handed the empty glass back. “Now, go to the bar and offer to buy him a drink. Or I will.” 

“Fine. If that's what it takes to get you drop this.”

Erik stood up and straightened his jacket. She smiled sweetly and wiggled her fingers in a mocking goodbye. He threw an angry glare at her and turned to head for the bar. He would take a closer look, that's all.

The bar was busy with the early evening crowd, but the staff was competent, and kept the flow of customers moving. Erik ignored few openings before he got the chance to push next to the two-four. He saw him coming and moved to make room. He had an empty glass in front of him. 

“Can I buy you a new one?” Erik asked, nodding at the glass.

“Why not,” he said and lifted the glass to the blonde bartender, who seemed to keep a close eye on him. She slid drinks over the counter to the woman waiting for them and walked back. She tilted her head to Erik in silent question. 

“Another one for him and I'll have whatever he's having,” Erik ordered. 

“That's gin and tonic with extra lime,” the bartender said and took the empty glass and coaster away with a practiced sweep.

“Fine. Make it with Tanqueray,” he asked. The bartender nodded and left to assemble the drinks, throwing a stern glance at the guy, who ignored it. 

Erik didn't know what to say to him. This close, his presence was disorienting. He got admiring glances from left and right. Even the slugs noticed that he was different from anybody else. The bartender returned, placing the drinks in front of them and Erik paid, adding a generous tip. She smiled and went to service a rowdy bunch of young women. 

“Thank you,” the guy said and pulled the drink closer before offering his hand. “I'm Charles.”

“Erik. Nice to meet you.” He shook his hand. His palm tingled where he had touched him. 

“Are you new in town? I haven't seen you here before.”

“Just passing through,” Erik said. 

“Is that your friend?” 

Erik glanced over his shoulder. Emma raised her glass to him and smirked, then turned to talk with two girls sitting next to her, their dresses showing long stretches of bare skin. Erik turned back, shrugging. 

“Business associate.”

“What kind of business are you in?” 

Erik sipped the drink to buy some time to think for an answer. The drink wasn't half bad. The bartender was good. 

“I'm a consultant. I travel a lot.”

“That explains why you don't like it here. You must be bored with hotel bars.”

“Is it that obvious?” 

“For a trained eye, yes,” Charles said and laughed. The bartender glanced at his direction, frowning.

“The bartender keeps a close eye on you,” Erik noted. 

“I know,” he said. “That's the downside of having only one popular bar in town and your sister working as a bartender. It's difficult to get a drink that's not watered down. This one is good though.”

Erik wasn't good at small talk, but Charles kept up the light conversation with ease and Erik started to relax. He was funny and sharp, easy to talk to. 

The place got louder when a large party crammed in the bar, demanding drinks. There was another two-four in the group, a tall woman in a sequin black dress. She stared at him, flashing both a bright smile and ample cleavage. This time Erik noticed, but so did Charles. He straightened, and moved his hand pointedly to rest on Erik's arm. The woman made a face and turned to whisper something to her friend. Charles grabbed his glass.

“It's getting loud in here, let's go sit down.”

Erik took his drink and followed him. Charles held his arm tight and Erik smirked. He had heard that two-fours could get prickly around other of their own kind, but he had never thought he would be the price to battle over. That amused him. 

Charles lead him to the little nook on the side, where the interior designer had managed to stick a low table and a few design armchairs, that were all the rage at the lounge chic. Erik sit down, leaning back. Despite the aesthetics, the chair was comfortable. Erik expected Charles to take a seat next to him but instead, he perched down on his knee. 

Erik froze in surprise. He had an actual two-four in his lap; warm, solid and smelling incredible. He was suddenly aware of his hands. Should he hold his waist, touch his back? Not doing anything didn't feel right either. Charles reached to take his hand and planted it on the curve of his ass. 

“Better, isn't it?” he asked, and turned his head to scan the crowd from this new vantage point. His warmth filled his palm and Erik didn't know what to concentrate on, his perfect ass or the tempting curve of his bared neck. He turned to him and smiled, like Erik had said something funny. He fished the lime from his glass and bit on it, sucking the flesh. Erik admired his mouth, the white flash of his teeth, unable to turn his eyes away. He plopped the peel back in the glass and pulled the other wedge up slower, eating it with careful nips. 

“I know, it's bad manners to eat the garnish,” he said and licked his finger. “But I like lime. Tart, and soaks up all the alcohol.” He dropped the peel back in the glass and leaned to place the glass on the table. Erik felt the muscles move under his palm. There was no way he wore anything under those pants, and he tried to get a hold of himself. This was ridiculous. He was just a cute guy, nothing to it. 

Charles shifted closer, leaning on his shoulder. Erik held out his glass for him without a word. Charles laughed and fished for the lime wedge, the ice slipping between his fingertips. He put the lime in his mouth and ate it with care, watching him. He got a kick out of this. He plopped the peel in the glass and took it from him, sipping a quick gulp before reaching to set it to the table. 

“Just as I thought. Mine was weaker,” he said and leaned back, against his shoulder and then closer, reaching to kiss him. His mouth was cool and tangy from the lime and gin. He stroked his neck with his cold fingertips, a shiver running down Erik's spine. 

“Do you want to huff?” he asked, sliding his hand down his chest, under the jacket. 

Erik glanced around. They sit on the far side from the main area, but still in plain view if anyone would realize to look. It was reckless, but not much more improper than kissing. 

“You don't have to offer. This is already perfect.”

“How sweet, and polite.” He opened the first button on his shirt. “So, is that a yes?” 

Erik nodded and slid his hand up the curve of his back. He nuzzled his neck, searching for the right spot, his breath warm and ticklish under his ear. He did the same, tracing the jugular vein, holding back from touching his skin. Too forward. He knew the protocol, even if he didn't indulge in these kinds of pleasures like Emma did. 

Erik breathed lightly for a moment, adjusting to the rhythm of his breathing.

“Three, one,” he whispered and Erik complied, taking three quick drags and one long, inhaling so deep that it hurt and holding the breath in, his scent blooming inside his lungs. Charles did the same, catching his lead, his breathing quiet and controlled. First round they were out of sync, Erik had to exhale while Charles was still holding, but the second round they snapped together, the high unfolding. Erik wrapped his arm around his back, feeling the tension, the sway as he fought to keep the breath in him. The black dots danced in his eyes, but he wouldn't let go until Charles did, exhaling with a burst. Another round, and then one more, his lungs burning from Charles' scent. He started to lose his grip on his surroundings. Only his skin and this pleasure mattered.

“Hey.”

Someone pushed the table, causing the glasses to rattle. Erik looked up and saw the bartender sister standing there, staring at him. He patted Charles' shoulder and he turned, brushing his hand through his hair. 

“You draw attention. Put a lid on it,” she said and gathered the glasses in a neat pile with a practiced move and continued to the next table without looking back. Charles started to laugh, leaning his head against his shoulder. Erik looked around, the room blurry in his eyes. Slugs threw disapproving looks at them, whispering. Not good. Erik smirked and leaned back against the backrest. He didn't care.

“That was incredible,” Charles managed between the fits of laughter. “I want more. I want to do it again.”

“As it happens, my place is only an elevator ride away,” Erik said.

“Perfect. Let's go.” 

He stood up, pulling him up with him. He lead him out of the bar and into the elevator. Charles glued himself to his side through the short ride upstairs. Erik didn't mind. It was strange, for any other time he would've got annoyed if someone pushed this close but not with him. He wanted Charles, naked, on his bed, now. 

He opened the door and held it open for Charles, before letting it close behind him. The room was neat. He traveled lightly and the few personal items he had, he kept in the suitcase that was now tucked in the back of the closet. The buzz from the huffing evaporated, and he started to think. This was too easy. 

Charles sat on the bed, looking around.

“Nice room.” He smiled and stretched his legs. “Come here.”

“Before that, I have to ask you a question,” Erik said and took off his jacket, folding it on the chair. “I apologize in advantage, though if you knew my business associate, you would understand why I have to ask. She has a nasty sense of humor.”

“That's some build-up,” he said, leaning back. “Go on.”

“Are you a professional?”

He stared at him for a second. “You think I'm a hooker.”

“It's fine if you are, I just like to know upfront,” Erik said. “I don't like surprises. Especially if Emma is behind them.”

“I don't know who Emma is, and I don't care. I'm not a hooker,” he said, straightening. “While we are on this, are you a preacher? About to pull a stack of pamphlets explaining how I have a moral obligation to marry and bear children? I have to ask, because my sister has a nasty sense of humor too.”

“What?” Erik asked, stunned. “Me? Do I look like a preacher?”

“Do I look like a hooker?”

Erik stared at him and he stared back. Erik bowed, courteously. 

“Touché. I apologize. Should we go back to the bar? Another round of drinks maybe, to start this over?” 

Charles walked closer, grabbing a hold of his shirt and pulling him toward the bed. Erik followed, trying to read his expression. Charles sat down at the edge of the bed, glancing up at him and started to unbuckle his belt.

“Is that a no?” Erik asked.

“I had a rough week,” Charles said. “And I want to get laid. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No. No problem. Happy to help.”

Charles smiled, a smug little smirk and he pushed his pants further down. Charles stroked him through his underwear for a moment, before pushing his hand in, tucking his cock out. 

A touch and he was hard, like a reckless teenager. Charles looked pleased with the effect he had on him and leaned to lick the tip with slow, wide strokes. He kept his eyes fixed on his, and that drew Erik more than anything that he did with his tongue. Charles worked his way down the shaft, licking and kissing in erratic patterns. Erik started to unbutton his shirt, to keep his hands busy. It was too tempting to grab a hold of his lean neck and shove his cock in his mouth, but he was sure that wasn't polite. Charles looked up, moving his hand up and down in firm strokes. 

“You should get rid of those clothes,” Erik said, tossing his shirt away. “So I can repay the favor.”

Charles let him go and leaned back, taking off his own pants with a bit more squirming than necessary. He had been right, he didn't wear anything under the pants. Charles folded and dropped them on the floor, the shirt following. When he was finished, he leaned back, resting on his elbows and watching him as he undressed. 

Erik didn't waste any time, kicking the clothes aside the second they were off. He knelt on the floor, reaching to pull Charles closer. He went with it, opening his legs slight, watching him.

He was soft and smooth everywhere, the skin of his thighs more fragrant than the skin on his neck, a new high. His penis was small, frail looking and it rested snugly between his legs. He explored with care, kissing and caressing while watching his reaction. Charles looked interested, but obviously he waited him to move on. Erik took him in his mouth easily. He had sucked cock before, but none of his usual tricks had much effect. His penis swelled slightly, but that was all. 

He pressed his mouth in the root of his penis, licking the skin there. Charles drew a quick breath and Erik glanced up. He stared at him, clutching the bed spread. Erik repeated the motion, pressing his tongue flat, covering more skin. He made another sound, a louder one. Erik licked further down, and his legs tensed. Erik leaned his arm on his tight to keep him in place. He didn't want a kick in the head, if he found a delicate spot. 

Charles moved under his hold and he held him down firmer, enjoying the control. He flicked his tongue over his skin, light and teasing, trying out different things. He used his mouth, and then fingers, changing firm and delicate touches so he couldn't settle to one sensation. Erik kept up with it, until he moaned loudly, tensing and relaxing and tensing again. Erik knew what a tremor was, a micro orgasms that the two-fours were prone to, paving the way for the big one. He had never seen it outside a high-end porn, slugs certainly couldn't do it. It was fascinating. 

Charles slumped down to the bed, shivering and smiling. Erik stroked his thighs, the skin much warmer now than a moment ago. 

“Sorry, huffing makes me go quick,” Charles said and sat up, catching his breath. “The second is always better.” He turned on his stomach and pushed up, spreading his legs.

“I want to see your face,” he said and touched his waist, nudging him gently to turn back to him. If the first was like this, he had to see the second. Charles glanced over his shoulder, reaching to pat his hand away. 

“Later. Now, hard,” he ordered, and leaned toward him, displaying. Erik wanted to argue but the sight made him lost the thought. He reached to grab his hips, digging his fingers in his skin. It would bruise but Charles didn't object, only leaned back more. He settled closer, holding him down and gave it to him the way he asked, whole length in one solid push from tip to root. He was perfectly yielding, no resistance, like his cock was the one that could fill him right. Erik knew it was an illusion, nature's clever trick, but he didn't care. It felt amazing. 

He started to fuck him with steady strokes, his lovely ass slapping against his belly, the slick ratcheting up. He was louder now, like the first tremor had been an obstacle he was glad to overcome. The second tremor rolled through him, making him arch his back, clenching down. Erik held still, letting him ride it out. He used the moment to stroke the inside of this thighs, nudging his legs further apart. 

Charles moved again, fucking himself in his cock, trying to take control. Erik didn't want to give it to him. He pressed his hand between his shoulder blades, pushing his face to the mattress. He leaned down, thrusting as deep as he could. Charles clawed the bedspread, his breathing heavy and Erik eased back to give him chance to object if this was too far.

“No, no, keep going,” he said, craning his neck to look at him. “Like that.”

Erik obliged and pressed him back down, hand on his neck and fucking him as hard as he liked. It was so different from sex with slugs. He smelled astonishing now, the taste he had got in the bar nothing but a preview for this. The tremor rattled through him, his moans muffled in the mattress. Erik grinned and pulled away, grabbing his leg and tossing him on his back. He was flushed, panting, and he looked delicious. The tremor was hardly over when he reached his hand to wave him back down.

“Again?”

“It only gets good after the fourth,” he said. “Why, are you done?” 

Erik shook his head, getting on top of him.

“Didn't think so,” Charles said and wrapped his legs around him. He was strong, and he didn't hold back, not that Erik objected. He pushed deep, sliding his hand under his ass and pulled him even closer. Erik wanted to see the look in his eyes, but Charles pressed his face in the crook of his neck. He could hear the sound he made, first hurried gasp, then the long, tense silence. He was huffing, getting high without inviting him. Erik grunted and shifted, pacing different, plowing in his body to force the breath out of him. He clutched his shoulders, trying the same trick again, and Erik jolted him, the breath escaping in a hot burst. 

“Damn it!” 

“Stick around,” Erik whispered to his ear. “You said that the fifth is a good one.”

“Prove it,” he said, slumping on the mattress, staring at him challengingly. “Minute ago you were about to quit.”

Erik smirked and pushed up, leaning his hands on the mattress, looking down on him and thrusting deep and steady. He didn't break the eye contact and he didn't lose his rhythm, even when Charles reached to stroke his sides, up his chest, fingertips brushing over his nipples. He stayed in control, and it payed big to play everything on one card. The fifth crashed through Charles without a warning, his body arching and tensing for one long, glorious moment.

Erik leaned down to kiss him and he pressed his palm against his chest, a silent stop and he backed to give him room. He breathed heavily, his body shivering with the tremor. 

“Fifth, it's, not going to lie, really worth waiting,” he muttered, swiping back his hair from his eyes. “Let me do the sixth, and we'll talk about the seventh.”

“How many can you take?”

Charles just smiled, pushing his shoulder and Erik went with it, turning on his back, leaning on his elbows like Charles had done when he had gone down on him. Charles swung his leg over his hips and pushed down, taking his cock without a pause. He pressed his hands on his stomach, and moved, swaying slowly back and forth. 

“I want to kiss you,” Erik said, watching him. 

“Maybe,” he said without looking up, his fingers tracing patterns over his skin in the rhythm with his hips, back and forth. “Not yet.”

Erik reached to rest his hand on his hip, stroking gently the curved bone. 

“You alright?”

“Sixth is tricky, makes me think too much. Don't worry about it,” he muttered and smiled, a little tug in the corner of his mouth. “Give me a minute.” 

Erik wished he could kiss that exact spot, but if that was the step too far, then there was other parts of him to kiss. Erik moved his hand to rest on the small of his back, sitting up. He looked at him to see where this was going, frowning. Erik kissed his shoulder and looked to see if that was alright. He said nothing, but he returned to stroke his side. Erik got to work, letting him set the pace. He kissed and nipped his chest, not enough to leave marks, but so that he could feel the difference, the amount on control Erik had. Pain if he wanted it, pleasure if he didn't. 

He groaned when Erik trailed lower, his swaying getting more urgent. He stopped, leaning back to watch him bounce on his lap, his breath hitched, muscles moving under his skin. Erik didn't know how much more he could stand this. He could feel the pressure building, the first warning sign, but he couldn't stop him, not yet. Not when he looked like that. 

He grabbed his hips and thrust to meet his movement, falling into easy harmony like they've been doing this for ages. Erik knew how close this was to end, so he enjoyed every thrust, not thinking anything else beyond that sensation.

Erik felt his thrusts getting shorter, his hips turning heavy when the pressure shifted. He recognized the danger and he sat up quickly, wrapping his arm around Charles' waist, lifting him up a fraction.

”What are you doing?” he asked and struggled to push back, grappling a hold of his shoulders.

“It's the crick,” Erik muttered, sliding his hand under his ass to hold his weight. “I can't stop it, sorry. Stay still, it's gone in a minute.”

“What the hell, gone in a minute,” he growled, pushing stubbornly down against his hold. Erik squeezed his waist harder, stopping him. “I worked hard for that crick and now you want to waste it? Damn slug pusher!” 

Erik froze. 

“What did you say?”

“You heard me.” Charles stared at him. “This is your idea of fun, stringing me along this far? I told you, I'm not in the service business, I want my fun too. Either you give it to me, or I get up and go looking for someone else who will. And you can finish off with your hand, for all I care. It's your call. Which way you want to go?”

He looked furious. And damn beautiful, though Erik was sure he would get punched if he said it out loud. It might be worth it, but he kept his comments to himself and released his hold. He slid back down.

“Excellent choice. Put your hand on my ass, right now,” he ordered. “Now!”

He obeyed and Charles smirked, pressing his palms against his stomach, for support this time, not for play. He ground back and forth in small, tense circles, his breathing slow and controlled. He could feel every shift of his muscles under his hands. The need to let go crawled up his spine, thudded behind his eyes. It was a lost battle, but he fought it anyway, the caution drilled too deep in his mind. A crick was shameful, it was lack of control, something intense and frightening for partner to handle. And this slight thing wanted it, pried it out of him with snide remarks and tight body. He leaned back, his hand resting against his thigh, a beautiful line of chest and throat and arching back. He moved slower, the rhythm uninterrupted.

“That's it, give in,” he murmured, kneading his chest, leaving scrapes behind. “It's easy, like falling.”

If it was, Erik didn't want to fall alone. He reached to lick his chest, grazing his teeth gently across his skin. He tightened around him, gasping. Erik latched on his nipple, sucking hard, aiming to throw him. It worked beautifully. Charles moaned, his feet kicking in helpless battle, the pillows tumbling to the floor. He smacked his shoulder and he eased slightly, teasing him with his tongue. 

“Too much, too much!”

Erik let go, returning his hand on his ass, stroking there the way he had asked. He leaned his arm on his chest, panting, head lolling down like he didn't have strength left to breathe and control his body at the same time. 

“I want to kiss you now,” he said and he nodded, eyes half-closed. He pulled him in the kiss, dwelling in his taste, laced with the bite of salt, the juniper trace of gin.

“Chest, again,” he said when he let him breathe. Erik smiled and did the same on the right side, sucking and licking until he couldn't stop shivering, smacking his shoulder over and over. His ecstasy came right back to him, the moaning and the tight squeeze if his body, and that did him in. It was an orgasm, still recognizable in form, yet completely new. He felt it everywhere, in his bones, in his blood, in every thrumming string of muscle. Charles moaned against his neck, the crick locking him in place, stretching him. Erik tried to breathe, but he could only get lungfuls of his scent, like he inhabited him from the inside and outside, the high folding as a bright light, dancing at the edges of his vision.

“And that's what you wanted to waste,” Charles panted, fingers digging in his shoulders. 

He pressed his mouth in the curve of his neck, holding him like he couldn't get enough. He had been fool, there was nothing better than this. He was a revelation.

***

He woke up to the snap of the bathroom light, a stumble and a quiet curse when he hit his leg in the dark. Erik reached to turn on the bedside lamp and turned, the sheet tangled over his legs. Charles stood near the door, frozen like a rabbit in the headlights.

“I'm heading out,” he said, stating the obvious. 

“You could've stayed until morning,” he said. “It's hard to get a taxi at this hour.”

“Actually, it's 6 a.m.”

“Oh. How about breakfast then?”

“Better not,” he said. “Thanks though. I had a great time.” He smiled and was out of the door before Erik could think anything to say. The door closed behind him with a quiet click.   
Erik got up and walked to the bathroom. It was easy to wash his scent away from his skin, but he had a feeling that it would take much longer to get him out of his head.


End file.
